


Crawl Back In

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-05
Updated: 2009-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chester knows that Mike is waiting for him to say something but he doesn’t know where to start. This means so much to him that the idea of letting somebody else hear it makes his stomach turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crawl Back In

They’ve been sitting in silence for an hour now. The couch in Mike’s studio is so tiny that even when they sit on either end their knees still brush. Chester knows that Mike is waiting for him to say something but he doesn’t know where to start. This means so much to him that the idea of letting somebody else hear it makes his stomach turn. It’s like when he caught Brad reading his journals – it’s the worst parts of him exposed and he can’t handle it.

Eventually Mike shifts, says, “We don’t have to do this, Chester.”

“No. We do. We. Yeah, we do. I want you to hear it.” His heart is beating so fast he’s pretty sure he’s going to have a heart attack. He never reacts like this to Mike listening to things he writes for Linkin Park, not ever. But this…

“Has Brad heard it?”

Chester shakes his head wordlessly.

Mike says nothing, just gently takes the CD from between Chester’s sweating palms and gets up. With his eyes closed Chester can only picture Mike placing the CD in the changer, pressing play, standing back to listen. The couch dips and the warm, reassuring presence of Mike’s knee against his is back and the intro to the song starts.

They go back to sitting in silence. Mike at one end of the couch, his hands folded patiently in his lap. Chester at the other, his eyes screwed closed so tightly it hurts. There’s only two songs with lyrics and they’re at the end of the CD. Listening to the instrumentals is like waiting for a tornado to hit.

After the last outro plays the CD clicks off and they’re back to sitting in silence for a long time. Eventually Mike shifts, his voice closer when he says, “You can open your eyes.”

“No I can’t. I am physically incapable of opening my eyes, right now. I am out of order. I apologise for any inconvenience this may cause.”

Mike laughs and rolls his eyes. “Fine, don’t open them. But that means I’m not really telling you what I think to your face.”

“Yeah well…”

“It’s amazing stuff, Chester.”

Chester freezes, cracks open one eye to see if he’s fucking around but he isn’t. Mike sits facing him, chewing his lower lip.

“It’s. It’s really intense. I mean. The instrumentals are great. But the last two tracks. Jesus.”

“Oh.”

“No!” Mike blurts out, panicking. “I don’t mean they’re bad. I mean. God. What do I mean?” He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean those lyrics. In the first song. The chorus. How did it go again?” He fidgets and glances around the room, looking for a clue.

Chester would tell him, but he feels like saying the words out loud would be fingering himself, royally.

“I see a piece of everyone I know buried underneath my skin. I don't want to be like this, I want to crawl back in.” Mike says, his eyes locked on Chester’s. “That chorus…I just…I feel like I need to tell you so many things that you already know. I feel like I need to tell you you’re incredible and that you’re such a strong person and that he never, ever deserved you.”

“It isn’t about Brad.” Chester says, even though it is, even though everything always is.

“Okay. But even if it isn’t. That’s what it made me think of. And I hate that I let him treat you that way for so long.”

Chester shrugs weakly. “I’m glad you like it,” he says, looking away from him.

Mike nods and cups Chester’s chin with one hand, raising his head until they’re eye-to-eye. “Thank you for letting me hear it.” He drops his hand after a minute and smiles brightly. “I can’t wait to hear more.”

Chester wishes he had the confidence to say what he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead of I love you, what comes out of his mouth is a meek, pathetic little “thanks.”

And neither of them says, look what Brad has done to you. Neither of them says, he won.

But he did.


End file.
